


not yet noon

by velavelavela



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study, Childhood Trauma, Intrusive Thoughts, P.U.!, circa yorknew, mentions of smellumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velavelavela/pseuds/velavelavela
Summary: He just watches the leg drag for a half-second before she regains what little control she had lost from the limb, his blue eyes ticking back and forth like a grandfather clock’s rusty bronze tongue, a cat watching a circling ladybird.or, killua struggles with his assassin past.
Kudos: 6





	not yet noon

The limp breaks it down easy. Something small, a bit of a drag, but she will never be able to twirl like a music box ballerina (much less afford one by her shabby looks, heh.) The kind that wind like cymbal-monkeys, or jacks-in-the-box. Oh, and of course, maybe Killua never will dance either. At least, he has no desire to, and of course again, he is too young to be anything but coltish. Like a kitten learning its steps— stumbling along the hardwood and tilting like the planet into the basement or the kitchen-then-sleepy-bedroom, taking a steak knife to his mother. It’s also not like he can’t afford a simple, small, rose-painted wooden box (the family estate has plenty of money;  _ he  _ has plenty of money.)

He just watches the leg drag for a half-second before she regains what little control she had lost from the limb, his blue eyes ticking back and forth like a grandfather clock’s rusty bronze tongue, a cat watching a circling gasoline-green beetle.

Good leg, bad leg, flat foot, ever-so-slight tiptoe. Careful in balance, but not in concealment. Poorly postured, bad self-esteem? Hunched over a bit in the shoulders beneath the thick coat she wears in the September Yorknew chill. She is tired. The limp is growing more obvious. It’d be easy as pie. She isn’t expecting him.

But, he won’t. It’s not him. It’s the spiral eyes of his big brother, his grandfather’s crouched form; it’s the memory of the house that lacked empathy— but, oh, it’d be  _ laughingly _ easy—

He won’t. 

He won’t.

Ah, tick-tock— he  _ won’t _ .

“Killua!” Gon shouts from across the way, waving at him before the clock can chime noon.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is an edit of a piece i wrote in 2018. set circa yorknew, just killua being traumatized as a character study lol


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